


Where there´s Tea there´s Hope

by LadyAhiru



Series: Jules Tiny Dragon Verse [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Constipated Geralt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, First Kiss, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jaskier is in a dark place at First, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, creature!Jaskier, dragon!Jaskier, post Episode 1.6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAhiru/pseuds/LadyAhiru
Summary: After the worst day of his life, (aka the mountain breakup) all that Jaskier wants is to go home to his parent's nest and lick his wounds. He did not expect to find Geralt there sipping Tea and his mother telling him that he was betrothed to the Witcher. He had been aware that his parents were allied with lots of political groups, the Witchers of Kaer Morhen being one of them. He had also been aware that he had been betrothed to someone before he had even been born and yet he had never actually counted 2+2 together.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Jules Tiny Dragon Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933339
Comments: 468
Kudos: 1035





	1. May I come home?

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you joke around on Twitter!  
> Big shoutout to Carmi and Nora for spitballing this idea with me;)
> 
> In which Jaskier is heartbroken and misses his home

* * *

_**1: Jaskier** _

Pain was a curious thing. He was healthy, unharmed, fit as a fiddle and yet he couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep couldn’t fucking compose, his heart an open bleeding wound. There was the pain of heartbreak, leaving him to turn around fast at the sound of nearing hooves only to feel the pain of disappointment when it’s not _him._

He had once met a man in an inn during his travels, one of the times he had travelled on his own, who had lost an arm during an accident. He had described the sensation as phantom pain. The absent pain of missing something that wasn’t there anymore but you could still sometimes feel the itch.

That’s how he felt now. Raw and open like someone had cut him with a knife and there was no way to stop the bleeding. He had been in pain before but not like this, not as a part of him was missing and would never return. He didn’t remember how he had made his way back down the mountain, back on the road, alone.

It had been almost two months since the love of his life had basically told him he wasn’t even worth the dirt under his shoes. Not that they had ever been together like that. Jaskier was no fool and yet he _was_ a fool. Logic dictated that a Witcher, a man like Geralt would never love him back, that he would forever seek the destructive arms of the purple-eyed sorceress, would cast him aside over and over and over and over again and yet he had hoped. Had lost himself in daydreams and fantasies, had taken every ounce of kindness as a meaning that his feelings were reciprocated, that Geralt just needed more time to voice them. More time to get used to him and his touch, his voice his being.

Gods, what a fool he had been. Twenty-two years. _Twenty-two years._ How long could someone live in delusion? He had fallen in lust with Geralt right at their first meeting at the Ends World Tavern in Posada Love had followed shortly after and unlike Jaskiers many other companions this one had stuck. Geralt had refused to call him his friend, yet alone kiss or hold him as he wanted and yet he had clung to every small gesture. He knew he needed to make his way to civilization soon, to fight the dark thoughts in his head. Because there was a tiny part in him that wondered if the world, if Geralt was indeed better without him being there. Without him alive.

He had been travelling for weeks before he found himself on a crossroads, and wasn’t that just fucking poetic. He had a choice to make. He could go north to Oxenfurt, where they would welcome him with open arms. He would probably get a position as a teacher and be well-loved by his students. Or he could head south and take the pass to Lettenhove, back home.

There was nothing waiting for him there. Sure, he technically was still in the line of succession but he had no plans to ever actually ascent to the throne. His parents had supported him when he had left all those years ago. He had many cousins, one of them could easily take over and they had let him go.

His mother was human, and she had been more reluctant to see him leave, scared that she would age and die in his absence. Now almost 23 years after he had last seen them he suddenly wanted to go home, to drink his father’s famous tea and cry in his mother’s lap. He was their only child and the pregnancy, as well as his birth, had almost killed her. Unlike the rest of his kind, he had been carried in a womb and be born in human form. It was what had saved her life but she was still very mortal.

Jaskier wrote as often as he could, wrote of his adventures, his music and that he thought he found his mate. He snorted sadly at the thought now. He should have known better. Even if he returned to his father’s nest, he had no hoard of his own but his songs and now he couldn’t even compose anymore.

He had always preferred his human form. Weak and small compared to his cousins, his half-human ancestry clearly showing. Unlike his relatives, he even got cold sometimes. He had always been a shitty Dragon and now he was also a shitty bard.

He took a deep breath in and went south. The pain in his heart slightly subsiding.


	2. May I make this my home?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Geralt tries to make the best of a shit situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thanks to a case of Insomnia you get another Chapter already! Don't get used to it

_**2: Geralt** _

Regret was a curious thing. He was healthy, unharmed, fit as a fiddle and yet he couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep couldn’t fucking think, his heart an open bleeding wound that he had put there himself. When he had been a young boy he had once heard the phrase the quill is mightier than the sword and had always thought it utterly ridiculous. How could you destroy someone with a quill? With words? A sword could physically harm someone, while mere words could not do much damage.

Now he realized how wrong he had been. That words could cut deeper than any metal weapon could. That a wound made by words would fester longer, would bleed just as much but could infect your heart and your thoughts, slowly killing you from the inside.

He had regretted the retched words as soon as he had spoken them. Fueled by anger and sadness and the overwhelming urge to keep Jaskier save. So he had done the only thing he could have to make sure the bard would never be in any form of danger ever again. He had pushed him away. Cast aside like a used and dirty tissue. A part of him, a small tiny part still hoped that he had done the right thing. That the hurt and heartbreak he had seen in those beautiful cornflower blue eyes hadn’t been in vain, but overall he was smarter than that.

He had taken the only thing he had ever loved, by his own choice and not circumstances, the only good thing in his life, the only loyal companion he had ever had and stomped at it with his feet. The silence that surrounded him now was deafening, the irony not lost on him. He knew Jaskier would call it poetic justice and write a sonnet about his misery and he wished the bard was there so he could tell him to shut up.

Witchers didn’t really have homes, the closest they had was their schools headquarter and that’s where he had travelled to after he had lost the only thing that truly mattered to him. _~~His~~_ The bard’s songs followed him through the journey and the bittersweet taste in his mouth never subsided. Food tasted like ash and he hadn’t slept more than one or two hours per night in weeks.

Vesemir had taken one long look at him, had nodded and proclaimed “Its time” and send him back out to fulfil a hundred-year-old contract. Well, a contract might be the wrong word for it, maybe an arrangement would be better fitting. Under other circumstances, Geralt would have protested but as things were maybe this would turn out good. He knew that even if he would see Yennefer again, they would not come together as lovers again, whatever had existed between them a false love made out of magic.

His heart yearned for Jaskier but he knew he had no right to feel that way, not after casting him aside. Vesemir had made the marriage pact with the royal Pankratz family many years ago and they would support the Witchers with goods and shelter in their domain and even send important herbs and other things to Kaer Morhen. All he knew about his future husband was that the man was apparently fairly young, in his forties and well versed in political and court affairs and that his name was Julian. And, and that was the bit that mattered to Geralt, that when he was told of the arrangement at age 25 he had no concerns of marrying a stranger.

Geralt was sure the boy would probably change his mind when he learned that his betrothed was also a Witcher but nothing could be done about that now.

And so with a heavy heart, a Jaskier shaped hole inside it, he made his way to Lettenhove to fulfil the century-old contract and meet his future husband.

Lettenhove was not what he had expected. Both his brothers had been here before and had told him about the warm and welcoming atmosphere. He had believed them full of shit but now he was ready to change his mind. The first person he met was a merchant on the road with a broken wagon wheel. The man had asked for help, smiling openly at Geralt and had paid him with coin AND food after he had fixed the broken wheel.

Every traveller he had met on the road had smiled and greeted him. One woman had even offered him an apple for Roach and Geralt wondered where this strange land had been all his life. The main town wasn’t that big but colourful without being overwhelming. Taking Vesemirs suggestions into mind, he made his way directly to the small castle.


	3. Home is where the tea grows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a reunion

**3: Jaskier**

Now that he had a goal in mind his steps felt more secure, more confident and yet the pain was still omnipresent. A part of him wondered if it would ever go away or if this was just what he had to live with now. He briefly debated if he should just transform and fly to Lettenhove, it would definitely cut his travel time at least in half but he liked to walk. Twenty-two years walking behind a Witcher would do that to you.

He didn’t sing or hum or even think about lyrics during his traveled. All he could think of was Geralt, spitting words of hate at him. Maybe the Witcher had been, right? Maybe he was indeed worthless of being his travelling companion or even his friend. Maybe all he was, was a shit shoveler.

He knew that in the grand scheme of things he had only spent a very small amount of his life with Geralt and yet it felt like a lifetime to him. He had believed the other to be his destined mate. Like wolfs or swans, Dragon mated for life and Jaskier had truly believed that Geralt was the one for him.

A part of him still felt that way, even though he knew logically that it wasn’t the case, that the Witcher had rejected even his friendship and that he was not worthy of being the Witchers mate after all.

People smiled at him while giving small bows as soon as he entered Lettenhove. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to see him and a bit of the pain inside of the bard subsided. He did not walk to the castle right away, first, he needed to regain some of his composure.

He looked dirty and tired and he knew his parents would be immensely worried if they would see him like this. He was well known in town and the local Innkeeper, Hendrik, was happy to provide him with a room and bath for the night.

He regretted it as soon as he sunk into the bath and was now truly alone with his thoughts, no distraction to be had, just him and his pain. He didn’t even realize he had started to cry until he could not clearly see the room anymore and angry with himself he dunk his head underwater.

He missed Geralt so much he felt like dying and a part of him was still thinking of that option as an easy escape. It was not fair how much he loved the Witcher. Not fair that he could not get rid of the feelings. Not fair that he didn’t know how to move forward now. There was no way he would travel on singing. The joy of composing had left him as soon as Geralt had screamed at him.

What good was a dragon who could barely fly? What good was a bard that couldn’t sing? He had nothing and nobody and he truly felt alone in the world. Angry with himself he scrubbed at his skin until he was bright red and washed his hair. He ate supper in his room, not willing to put on a face and smile at the people downstairs and went to bed early.

He dressed in his best clothes the next day, washed his face, brushed his hair and put on his best fake smile before heading to the castle. The servants greeted him with big smiles and he was told that his parents had a guest and were having tea in the green lounge so he put his belongings into his room and made his way to the east wing of the estate.

When he pushed the door to the comfortable living room open his mother’s warm and happy smile greeted him. “Julian! Oh, how wonderful for you to come to visit!” She jumped to her feet, quite nimble for a woman her age and pulled him into a warm embrace.

“Mama…I….” She smiled and ruffled his hair. “What a perfect time for you to come home! You betrothed has arrived earlier this morning to claim you.” Jaskier blinked slowly and nodded. Maybe this what he needed? If Geralt wasn’t his true mate maybe his future husband could fill the spot in his heart.

“Your father is showing him the stables to make sure his horse is well taken care of. He seems to be a very gentle man for a Witcher. He was very polite and kind.” She beamed at him but Jaskier had stopped listening at the word Witcher. No, it couldn’t be. No, there were many Witchers all over the continent, of a different school. It definitely wasn’t….

The door to the garden opened and he turned around. His father laughed and pulled him into a tight embrace. “Julian! What destined timing you have! Let me introduce you to your future Husband. Geralt of Rivia.”

His mother had pushed a teacup in his hands but it clattered to the floor, spilling hot tea onto the carpet as he stared at Geralt who stared right back at him.


	4. The enemy of my heart is my husband

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they make a deal

**4: Jaskier**

“Julian?” he could feel his mother’s confused gaze upon him but he was still unable to move.

Geralt wrinkled his head in confusion mouthing “Julian?” but not saying anything out loud.

“Mother….I am sorry but I cannot marry this man.”

Edith knew something was wrong. Her son would usually call her Mama or Ma, but only mother if he was in great distress and she instantly moved closer to him. Her husband kneeled to pick up the teacup and gestured to the table so they could sit together.

“What’s wrong Jules?”

Jaskier didn’t dare to look at Geralt as he sat beside his mother, his fingers tightly wrapped around a new teacup waiting for his father to prepare the hot beverage.

“I….I wasn’t aware that the marriage arrangement had been made with a Witcher.”

Alfred moved to the seat on Jaskiers other side which left Geralt to sit opposite him. The viscount served the tea and then proceeded to look at his son. “You had never thought ill of Witchers before. Why start now?”

Jaskier swallowed, slightly shaking still not daring to look up from his cup and finally Geralt spoke.

His voice sounded unusually strained as he was uncertain how to put his feelings into words. “I know the pact had been made by my adoptive father in my name to secure an ongoing alliance between the Pankratz family and the Witchers of Kaer Morhen. I can see that your son…” His gaze turned so sad for a second that Jaskier mother could feel it in her heart before he continued.

“That your son is not willing to fulfil your side of the deal. As both my brothers are otherwise engaged and I can only offer myself….” Geralt looked away from Jaskier out of the window. “I can only offer to break the arrangement.”

“No.” Jaskier shook his head. He didn’t want to be bound to Geralt like this but he could not betray the agreement. They did not have much land and the Witcher magic protected it from being detected by unwelcomed forces, giving the dragons of his family a safe place to exist. He could not rip that away from his relatives for his own selfish reasons.

“I…I am sorry….of course, I will honour the agreement and marry…the Witcher…I was just not prepared….I apologize Sir Witcher.”

Geralt nodded and silence fell over the room before Edith clapped her hands together.

“Very well! We will make preparations immediately!” She gave a glance to her husband who nodded. “Julian my dear why don’t you bring your fiancé to your room hm? He’s probably tired from travelling and he can stay in your guest room so you two can get acquainted with each other.”

“Yes, mother.” Jaskier stood and gestured Geralt to follow him. He knew he could not let himself fall apart now in front of the Witcher, already deemed weak and useless in the other’s eyes so he did his best to keep a straight face.

When they reached his quarters he gestured around in the grand living room. “This is my sitting room, feel free to use it as you like.” His voice sounded like he was making polite small talk with a stranger and not talking to the Witcher he had followed around for half of his life.

“The bathroom is through here and my room is the door to the right.”

He walked over to the third door left of the bathroom and opened it. “This is the second bedroom. I am sorry about the mess. I mostly use it as storage for my instruments.” He was still shaking and wondering why Geralt hasn’t said anything yet. “I will clean it out later when you take a bath, just let the servants know when you are ready to take one.”

He let Geralt take in the room and walked back to his own. “If you excuse me now I need to freshen up Sir Witcher.”

“Jaskier…”

The bard pressed his eyes shut, fighting with the upwelling tears. “Don’t call me that.” His voice didn’t sound harsh, just tired and defeated. “I am Julian Alfred Pankratz. Viscount of Lettenhove and you will address me as such.”

Geralt stared at him and Jaskier took a step back as the Witchers arm came out to touch him. Defeated Geralt let his arm drop down again as Jaskier flinched away. “I…of course my lord. Thank you for your hospitality.”

He turned and walked into the guest room, closing the door behind.


	5. A Batch to clear my mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geralt takes a bath

**5: Geralt**

Geralt let himself fall down onto the floor as soon as the door closed behind him, resting his head against the wood and pulling his knees close to his chest. Jaskier, he was supposed to marry Jaskier. The person he loved most in the world, the person who hated him. Fate was indeed a cruel mistress as she had let him here. He had prepared for a loveless marriage full of polite disinterest but not with the coldness Jaskier had spoken to him earlier.

Frustrated he left the room again and went to the stables to collect his things, telling a servant to prepare a bath on his way back up. This was his home now, there was no way he would back out of the arrangement, and he would not deprive his brothers of the only kindness this world had to offer them just because he was in unrequited love with his fiancé.

When he came back to the room he took the time to look around. The bed had been freshly made, probably shortly after he had arrived this morning but the rest of the room was a mess. It was not dirty but every surface was covered in books and instruments and all sorts of things.

The room was surprisingly spacious for just a guestroom, a fact that Geralt was grateful for now. The wall opposite of the bed was completely covered in shelves but most of the books lied around on the desk and floor or on the small armchair that stood in the corner facing the windows. There was a hesitant knock on his door and when he went to open it he found Jaskiers pale face looking at his feet.

The bard's eyes were rimmed red and Geralt could smell the faint scent of tears, cursing himself once more. “I…your bath is ready. If you allow it I will clean up now.”

If you allow it. Gods, Geralt hated the tremble in Jaskiers voice. Hated the uncertainty in which he spoke to him. Hated the fake politeness. He wished Jaskier would just scream and shout at him like he had done before when they had fought but he knew this time was different.

“Yes, of course, Ja- Julian.” The name felt weird on his tongue but he promised himself to fulfil any of Jaskier requests and be the best husband he could be under the circumstances. He let Jaskier into the room and let himself into the bathroom.

The hot water would usually ease his mind but his thoughts were racing around in his head. This was the first bath he had taken since the day of the mountain. The day he had ripped his own heart out in fear of losing Jaskier to his mortal life. He had always been afraid of loving the bard only to lose him to old age and now destiny, the cruel bitch, had made sure he would have to watch his love grow old and die while being bound to him in a marriage the other didn’t want.

This was the first time in over twenty years that Jaskier was not there to help him take a bath, the first time he had to wash his hair himself, no gentle humming behind him, no tender hands on his shoulders and Geralt didn’t care for it at all. He wanted to get out of the bath as quickly as possible but he knew he needed to give Jaskier time so he stayed in the water for almost two hours, reheating it twice with Igni and making sure he was properly clean before wrapping a fluffy towel around his hip and walking back to his room.

Jaskier had done a marvellous job of cleaning up. The books now in their proper place, the instruments were gone and his satchel had been unpacked and his belongings stored away in a way he liked. Even after all the pain, he had caused the other, Jaskier had still taken care of the little things he owned and had put them away properly. He quickly dressed before sitting down into the armchair when he heard the door open again.

“Oh, you are back…I…”

He sighed and turned to face the bard who carried a small silver tray in his still trembling hands.

“Come in.” Geralt had never seen the bard move as uneasy as he did now as he walked over and put the tray onto the small side table next to the chair. “I…I thought you might want some more tea and I made….I had the servants prepare some sandwiches.” The Witcher looked down, the bread was slightly toasted, the crust removed and fresh chives sprinkled upon the thinly sliced ham. He could also smell a bit of honey and mustard and he knew that Jaskier had prepared the food himself.

“Thank you….Will you….sit with me?”


	6. Follow my lead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jaskier makes some rules

**6: Jaskier**

Jaskier heart beat so fast he feared it would leap out of his chest and onto the cold stone floor and yet he found himself nodding and sat down on the small stool, much to close to Geralt for his liking and waited.

The Witcher took a sip from the tea and sighed.

“Look Jas- Julian, about the mountain. I-“

“No.” Jaskier shook his head.

“No?” Geralts face showed the confusion he was feeling.

“No. I don’t want to talk about it. There is no need to talk about it. What’s done is done.” The young dragon took a deep breath in before he continued.

“Obviously you didn’t know it was me, I supposed you wouldn’t have come if you’d known but it’s too late to back out now.” His voice was strong but so cold it made Geralt shiver.

“Both our families want and need this arrangement so here is what will happen.” He straightened his back and his whole body language changed. If anything he seemed even more closed off than before.

“We will do our best to make our families happy. In public, we will be playing the devoted couple that everyone wants to see. Is that understood?”

“Jaskier, please I-“

“Is that understood!?” Jaskier repeated, sharper, tears starting to gather in his eyes and Geralt nodded.

“Yes. Understood.”

“Behind closed doors, we will only talk to each other if strictly necessary. There is no reason to be in each other’s way and my- our quarters are big enough to avoid each other.”

Jaskier hands were shaking by now but he spoke on.

“After the wedding, we will wait the appropriate time and since they don’t, for obvious reasons, expect an heir out of us, you will be free to continue on the path and never have to see me again. I assume that works for you Witcher?”

Geralt nodded once more, not trusting his own voice.

“Good. If you excuse me now I have to get ready for the engagement festivities tonight. I will see you later.”

As soon as Jaskier found his way back to his room he crumbled down to the floor, silently sobbing into his pulled up knees. Fucking Geralt with his sad amber eyes. How dare he had the audacity to look hurt at his words.


	7. My thought on Paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geralt reads something interesting and further gets to know his future in laws

**7: Geralt**

* * *

Geralt still sat in the heavy armchair, the sandwich was long forgotten on the table and the now cold tea still in his hands. He never understood before when people said that words could hurt. Sure, ordinary people treated him awfully on a daily basis but he had never cared about them and their words before. He did care about Jaskier, and the bard’s cold words hurt more than he ever thought possible.

He felt weirdly cold like a slight shiver ran up and down his back and he did not have it in him to move. He knew that he was at fault here, that his own words back on that wretched mountain top were the reason Jaskier hated him now, he just had thought it would keep the bard away from him and save but now that they were supposed to get married and spend their life together. He knew now that his own words must have cut Jaskier as deep as he was feeling his heart bleed right now and he wished to be able to turn back time to take the words back, to agree to go to the Coast with Jaskier to tell him how much he loved him but now it was too late. All he could do was to agree to all and any of Jaskiers demands and try to at least be a good husband on the outside.

Sighing he ate and made sure he had clean clothes for the Gala tonight, unsure what was expected of him. He wished he could just ask Jaskier like in old times but he did not want to riffle the bard up more than he already had today. He had a few hours but he was not sure if he was allowed outside of Jaskiers Quarters so he decided to just read one of the books in his room. He flipped through a few of the heavy tomes until he curiously found a book that seemed oddly familiar to him. He pushed the first page open and was met with filigree and clean handwriting.

_1240 – Posada_

_Well, this is awkward. I think cousin Costanzo would think it hilarious if I would starve to death only a few months after I left home. I plaid in the “The Worlds End” Tavern last night and all I got was people shouting and throwing bread at me! AT ME!? Like, I get that not every peasant will understand good music but I even wrote a song about this brackish hamlet! At least the bread wasn’t mouldy and I got a bit to eat._

_I promised my parents to not cause any ruckus while I am travelling and to not give away the truth about our family but some people I just want to set on fire. I think I’ll just stay one more day and then try my luck elsewhere._

_1240 – Posada_

_Meliteles sodden bosom! I met the most gorgeous man. Oh, he is delicious! His eyes look like molten gold, his hair as white as milk and his lips, oh gods. He gave me his last coin even though he critiqued my choice of monsters in my song. A Witcher! Oh, I wonder what tales he could tell! My parents said that travelling will be good for me, wash the green away behind my ears and get some real-life experience so I will make a good match for my future husband or wife. They said that there is a contract in place but it will be decades before it will come to term so I have time to travel and follow handsome Witchers into the night. Oh be still my heart, when he looks at me it feels just like flying. I think I could fall in love with him._

Hasty Geralt pushed the Tome shut and let himself fall back onto the bed, the book almost brutally clutched in his hand. He could feel tears start to well up into his eyes. He sat up as heavy streams of tears started to fall against his cheeks. Sobbing he bit onto his on lips, pressing his mouth shut to keep himself from being too loud, afraid that Jaskier might hear him.

He missed the bard so much it felt like a deep gashing wound right where his heart was. A soft knock on the door brought the Witcher out of his thoughts and startled him ever so slightly. Geralt quickly wiped his face dry and opened the door. Jaskier father smiled brightly at him when he opened. “Good afternoon, I hope I am not disturbing you?”

“No.” and because Geralt was trying his best he added. “My Lord.” Laughing the older man gave his arm a soft slap. “None of that nonsense you can call me Alfred or Dad we soon gonna be family!”

Geralt swallowed hard, feeling undeserving of such kindness but nodded nonetheless. “Of course….Alfred.”

“Good, now I wanted to show you the ground where we grow our tea if you are interested. It’s only a short ride away and I thought you could maybe do with some fresh air, hm?”

Relief washed over Geralt as he eagerly agreed. A ride was just what he needed to clear his head.


	8. Mother knows best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In wich Jaskier talks to his mother

**8: Jaskier**

* * *

Jaskier watched sighing from his window as Geralt and his father rode out into the tea fields. He did not want to be as harsh to Geralt as he had been but his heart was still bleeding. Yet he had been surprised at Geralts sad face and the way the Witcher had agreed to everything he had said. He had already picked out his outfit for tonight and brushed his hair so he took the time to stare out the window, thinking about everything and nothing at all.

He was so lost in thoughts that he did not even hear his mother come into his room, even though she had knocked twice before letting herself in.

“Jules?”

He twirled around and forced himself to smile. “Mama…you startled me.”

“Oh, I am sorry my dear.” She walked over to him and stood behind him, hugging him and kissing his head. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you mean?”

“Julian Alfred Pankratz, I might just only be a human but I have raised you, I know when my only boy is upset. Tell me, you will feel better afterwards.”

He took a deep breath and suddenly words flooded out of him like water on a rushing river. He buried his head against his mother’s chest and let all the pain and hurt wash out.

His mother was silent for a while after he was finished, gently brushing her fingers through his hair.

“Do you want to call it off?”

Jaskier was silent for a long time, lost in thought. “No…I…I love him and….he is a good person mama, even after everything he….he is the best person I’ve ever met.”

His mother nodded and kissed his forehead. “I trust your judgment and I must agree, when he arrived there he was very polite if maybe a bit shy but I have seen the way he looks at you, Jules. I think your feelings are not as unrequired as you think.”

“Mama.”

“Trust me, just give it some time, hm?”

Sighing Jaskier nodded and stood up to stretch. “I’ll get some more tea, I will see you tonight Mama.”

The kitchen was busy, already preparing for the feat tonight and Jaskier had to wait a bit before he was able to brew himself some herbal tea and retreat back into his room.

He decided to set himself up into the shared living space and read a bit, not wanting to hide away in his bedroom from his fiancé anymore. When Geralt came back the Witcher stopped in the living room, not expecting Jaskier to sit there and greeted him quietly.

“My lord.”

“Do you want some tea?”

“I…yes…thank you.”

Geralt sat down, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows and reaching for the delicate cup that Jaskier was handing him.

“So father took you to the fields?”

“Yes…” The Witcher took a sip of tea but was still avoiding to look directly at Jaskier.

“It was very informative, I have not known how tea was grown before and how many different kinds there are.”

He fell silent again and Jaskier sighed. Geralt made no motion to move, apparently waiting for Jaskier to dismiss him and the young dragon suddenly felt very small.

“I…I should get dressed for the party.”

“Of course my lord.”

Geralt stood and to Jaskiers utter horror even bowed before retreating to his own room.

The bard had gotten exactly what he had asked for and now he hated every second of it.

He needed to find the words to talk to Geralt, really talk to him but it would have to wait until after the festivities. Sighing he got up and got dressed, ready to face his relatives.


	9. one dance is not enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they talk a tiny bit

**9: Geralt**

* * *

The party was everything the Witcher had feared and much worse. There was a lot of attendance for such short notice, around a hundred people, all in some way or another related to Jaskier and he did not like how the bard’s cousins looked at him.

He was introduced to all of them and he tried his best to remember their names and how Jaskier reacted to them. Now Jaskier had all but fled to the balcony and since they were pretending to be in love Geralt decided to look after him. Not that there was much pretending on his part, he hated the sad look on Jaskiers face and would do anything to wipe it away, replace it with a soft smile.

Jaskier stood on the ballroom balcony, overlooking some of the tea fields and sighed into his cup when Geralt stepped out and closed the doors behind him.

He did not know what to say or why Jaskier was in such a sad mood so he just stood close and grabbed the stone railing of the balcony, very close were Jaskiers own hand rested and he carefully stretched his pinky out to rub it against Jaskiers, showing him even after all he was there for him.

There was a small pause, were Jaskier froze and then he wrapped his own finger around Geralts and held on, still staring out at the fields. The silence between still felt heavy but a bit lighter and it was broken by Jaskier who sighed once more.

“I…you….thank you.”

Geralt bit his lips unsure of how to respond. Words were hard for him but he would give his best to try.

“There is no need to thank me Jaskier. I only gave you a small comfort. I don’t know what your cousins said to you to make you look so sad but I am glad that even though you hate me I can still give you a small comfort.”

Jaskier turned to him, eyes blown wide. “I don’t hate you Geralt. I…just don’t like you very much at the moment.”

“I understand. I don’t like myself much either.”

“Geralt….”

Jaskiers hand crept a tiny bit closer and so did Geralts until they were almost holding hands.

“Do you want to dance?”

Another shocking look made its way onto Jaskiers face. “You hate dancing.”

The Witcher shrugged. “Yeah, but you love it.”

“I…one dance?”

“Of course my lord.”

The young half-dragon shook his head. “Jaskier….I don’t….I am….just Jaskier.”

Geralt nodded carefully a rare smile on his lips.

“Will you give me a minute? I’ll be right in?”

“Of course, Jaskier.”

Geralt missed the contact of Jaskiers skin against his as soon as he let his hand go but he managed a bow and went back inside, making sure to stay close to the door so nobody would bother his fiancée


	10. save the last dance for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they dance

**10: Jaskier**

* * *

Jaskier waited for Geralt to go back into the ballroom before he allowed his facial expression to change into a silent scream. He was so frustrated with everything and of all the people around him, it had to be Geralt who had noticed his distress, Geralt who offered him a small comfort, Geralt who had asked him to fucking dance.

This was absolute torture, there was no other word for it. The Witcher had dressed up, black dress pants and a matching black doublet, small golden buttercups stitched into the silk as if to say “Watch me, I belong to Jaskier.” It had stirred something in him, and he was uncertain how to push the love he felt for the other man back down again.

He turned around to look back into the ballroom through the large glass door and was met with Geralts back, guarding the door, guarding him, so he could sulk in peace. He was not ready to forgive Geralt for his harsh words yet but maybe it was time to stop antagonizing him and to treat him with kindness again. After all, he was the love of his life and his oldest friend and if they would spend the rest of their lives together, married, he could at least make sure it was bearable for both of them.

Jaskier took a deep breath, fixed his wrinkled doublet and opened the doors, smiling at Geralt who took a small step to the side, still shielding him from the rest of the attendance with his body.

The Witcher opened his mouth a few times only to close it again but was finally able to press out a small: “Better?” Jaskier nodded and slowly reached for Geralts hand. “You promised me a dance, dear Witcher?”

He was prepared for Geralt to refuse but to his own amusement and joy, the Witcher nodded and took his hand, so very carefully as if he was afraid Jaskier would run out on him. Their fingers laced together like they were made for it. Like their only purpose in life was to hold on to the other hand and not to play the lute or hold swords.

Jaskier swallowed the big ball of anxiety in his throat down and tried to give Geralt a soft smile. He knew he only succeeded partly as his smile was a bit crooked and weak but the Witcher smiled back nonetheless. God he had misses Geralts smile. So warm and soft and yet so very rare. Geralts arm wrapped around him, looking uncertain and for help, unsure on how to assume the proper dance position.

“Here, like this.”

He could see Geralt swallow hard, his throat working as he nodded and corrected his posture. The ballroom was full of other dancers but all vanished from Jaskiers view as they started to move on the dance floor. Geralts hand was so warm on his back he wondered briefly if it would burn through the silk of his own doublet. His fingers tingled where Geralt held them and his head was spinning, yet he could not remember when he had last felt so good.

It was just them, the people vanishing from view, the music drifting in the background and nothing else mattered at that moment as Geralt twirled him around and held him close. To Jaskier surprise and delight there was raw emotion visible on Geralts face and the Witchers grip slightly tightened before he spoke, afraid that the bard might run.

“Jaskier. I am so…fucking sorry….”

Jaskier gulped and rested his head against Geralts shoulder, pressing his eyes shut to keep from tearing up and sighed. “It’s…okay.” He thought the Witcher would leave it at that but Geralt surprised him once again.

“No Jask, it is really not. What I said…it was horrible and wrong and I did not even mean it.” There was a small pause where Jaskier was about to respond when Geralt continued. “You are the best part of my miserable life. You are the reason I can still find happiness and out of fear I pushed you away. I am so fucking sorry Jaskier.”

Jaskier blinked and raised his head, staring which Geralt took as an opportunity to press a soft kiss against his forehead. He was still standing flabbergasted and staring when Geralt smiled sadly, released him turned around and went back to their rooms.


	11. Centuries with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geralt learns some truths

**11: Geralt**

* * *

Cursing himself about his own boldness and stupidity Geralt made his way back to their rooms. What in the gods' names had he been thinking not only had his apology been in public he had also kissed Jaskier on his forehead like he had any right to do so?

Grunting he threw himself onto his bed and hugged the pillow, like millions of teenagers had done so in frustration before him. He had never felt such helplessness ever before. He was sure that he had ruined any progress they had made with his emotional outbreak and storming out of the ballroom. Suddenly he sat up, eyes wide in horror. What if his behaviour would reflect badly on Jaskier? He did not want his bard’s cousins to tease him any more than they had already done and he was about to storm back out of his bedroom when he pulled the door open and collided right with Jaskier.

“Oh fuck Geralt! Ouch!”

The bard was rubbing his side where Geralts elbow had hit him and the Witcher stared at him in complete silence and shock.

“I…..”

Jaskier was still rubbing his side when he saw the look in his Witchers eyes. He had seen Geralt in a lot of states but never so shocked and frightened. Like a deer that had been caught by a hunter.

“Geralt?”

The bard wrinkled his forehead in confusion and then decided that he would just do what he did best. Talk all over the other one.

“I swear Geralt, you are made out of bricks. If I bruise you better put a healing balm on my stomach every night until it's gone are we clear? I can’t believe you would run around like this like a wild child, unbelievable. Nod if you are sorry.”

Flabbergasted Geralt took a step backwards and nodded, enjoying the soft smile on Jaskiers face as the bard stepped into his room and closed the door behind him.

“Also it was very rude to leave after only one dance! I had a great time and I would have liked another one.” By now Jaskier was gesturing as usual with his arms, swinging wide and kicking his shoes off like in the good old times before the mountain incident.

Geralt loved every second off it, so much that he was not really listening to Jaskier anymore, not because he did not care what the other was saying but because he was overwhelmed with love and joy until his brain informed him of a sentence that Jaskier had just babbled.

“….and I am pretty sure everyone thinks we stormed off to….well you know….not that we….I mean…..not that I would be opposed to….on the contrary but I know you are not….anyway, I am sure we can come to some form of arrangement in the next few centuries.”

A lot of people thought that Geralt was stupid or slow when in reality he just did not possess the ability to find the right words at times which is why all he could yell put was: “What!?”

A faint blush made its way upon Jaskiers face as he sat down onto Geralts bed, crossing his long slender legs over each other.

“Uhm….look, I mean you know how I feel about you…felt about…fuck still feel about you. I mean come on Geralt, it’s been twenty years. Everyone and their grandmother know that I am in love with you. It can’t be a surprise that that also indicated I find you sexually attractive and want to climb…”

The bard gestured to all of Geralt.

“….all that like a damn tree.”

The only reason that Geralt did not faint at Jaskier words were years of Witcher training but he still had to sit down as he stared at his betrothed. His betrothed who apparently loved him as much as he did.

“I….meant the century part?”

One issue at the time, he was sure he could deal with whatever Jaskier had meant and afterwards confess his own feelings and-

“Oh you know because we Dragons live as long as Witchers?”

This time no amount of Witcher training could keep Geralt from losing consciousness.


	12. Tea, my dear?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they have tea

**12: Geralt and Jaskier**

* * *

Cursing under his breath, Jaskier watched as his Witchers head sunk down and he fainted. In their long years of travel, he had seen Geralt in various stated of pain and wounded but the Witcher had never fainted before and for a moment Jaskier was unsure how to react.

He decided to for once not freak out and just help Geralt get comfortable. The bard started by removing his fiancé's boots and pushed his long legs up on the little stool in front of the armchair. He was standing openly legged above Geralt in the middle of opening his doublet to let him breathe easier when the golden eyes of his Witcher flew open again and he was met with an intense hot gaze.

“What…are you doing?”

Jaskiers fingers stilled for a moment before he continued to unbutton Geralts doublet.

“Obviously, I decided you being unconscious would be a good time to have my wicked way with you.”

Snorting Geralt reached out and wrapped his own fingers around Jaskiers.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm, you want some water dear Witcher?”

“No, I….dragon?”

Sighing Jaskier sat down onto Geralts feet, which rested on the small footstool and nodded.

“To be fair I thought you knew….”

The faint blush on Jaskiers cheek and the way he sheepishly looked to the side was adorable to Geralt but he was uncertain how to react, still gathering his thoughts about both of Jaskiers confessions.

“So you could have helped fighting?”

There was no accusation in Geralts voice, just curiosity and he gently held Jaskiers fingers while his thumb brushed over the bard’s soft skin almost absentmindedly.

“I…no…I mean a bit but I….I was really sick as a child and…the sorcerers who examined me thinks it’s a gene defect but my dragon form is only about this big.”

Embarrassed he gestured the size of a common housecat.

“So I would not really be helpful in battle. I am sorry Geralt.”

“Don’t! I….don’t.”

Unsure what to say and how to converse his feelings Geralt pulled Jaskier closer until the young bard was sitting on his lap.

“I thought I would lose you.”

The Witcher curled his arms around Jaskier whose back was to the side of the armchair and held him, his strong arms slightly shaking.

“Geralt?”

The Witcher was silent for a long time but Jaskier knew him well enough that he was just gathering his thought and not, in fact, ignoring him. He leaned back into the crook of Geralts arms and just enjoyed the feeling of being held.

Finally, Geralt pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and looked at him so intensely that Jaskier could feel his knees grow weak.

“I thought you were human Jaskier. I…thought….I was so afraid to lose you, if not to a monster or a bandit than surely to time. I tried to push you away so many times but you would always come back and then when I lost so much on the Dragon Hunt I thought it is only a matter of time before I would get you killed and I decided it would be better to push you away than to watch you die because of me.”

Jaskiers mouth fell open but no words came out and so Geralt continued.

“I was wrong, I should have never said those things, I clearly didn’t mean them but I was so fucking scared Jaskier. I thought…I was wrong. I don’t understand….I am not good with….emotions….I cannot use words as you do, I cannot spin tales of affection and sing and….I made sure you were always warm at night and had the better part of the meal and-“

Warm lips stopped him from speaking on as Jaskier had pressed forward and captured his mouth with his own in a very chaste careful kiss.

Geralt let his eyes fall shut and tried as best as he could to converse all his feelings and longing in the simple press of lips.

“Jaskier….Julian….I….I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I promise you I will do anything to make you believe me for the rest of our days.”

Smiling Jaskier shook his head and rubbed his nose against his Witchers.

“It makes so much more sense now, how you always treated me like I was fragile and….wait….”

The bard straightened his back so he could look Geralt straight in the eyes.

“You did not know but….you must have been aware how I feel about you, yes?”

Geralt did not answer, instead, he shrugged and gave Jaskier a lopsided smile who in return swatted the Witchers shoulder.

“Unbelievable. Twenty years Geralt! Twenty years I have sung your praises! I guess it is on me for not being even more direct and blunt.”

Before Jaskier could go off in another rant Geralt took his face carefully between his hands and let his lips drag over Jaskiers, his fingers gently scratching the bard’s temples.

“I….feel the same way about you, Julek.”

Jaskiers eyes grew double in size, round and wide as he stared in shock.

“Oh….you do?”

“Very much so…..”

Blinking Jaskier released his held breath and moved on Geralts lap so he was straddling him, pressing their bodies together in a tight embrace as he pushed his face into the crook at Geralts neck to hide his sobbing.

“You fucking moron.”

“Hmm…”

“Oh, I forgive you….. You stupid Ox.” Geralt smiled as Jaskier pressed tiny kisses all over his face and tightened his arms around him.

“Julek….”

“Fuck Geralt, you need to stop calling me that or I will devour you before our wedding night.”

Grinning the Witcher shrugged, not eager to wait longer but respecting Jaskiers choices nonetheless.

“Jaskier…..I….”

The Witcher laced their fingers together and pressed another kiss to the bow of Jaskiers brow.

“I look forward to being married to you, bard.”

Snorting Jaskier nodded but his giggling was stopped when Geralt removed his wolf medallion and clasped it carefully around the bard’s neck instead. He brought his hand up to fist around the silver trinket and pressed it close to his heart.

“Dear Heart…I….Geralt….I love you.”

No matter how old Jaskier got, how many more adventures they would still have, how many fantastic wonders the world would show him, from that second on he would never forget the look on Geralts face and when the Witcher smiled at him openly and warm and whispered a tiny “I love you” back he knew that he had experienced the most perfect moment and nothing would ever come close to the way he felt right now.  
  
Smiling he reached over Geralt to grab the still steaming pot of tea that a servant must have brought in earlier and filled two cups and as they sipped, gazing at each other lovingly over the rim of their cups all they could see was a bright and happy future.


End file.
